Page 64 of Cooper's Command

This was it.The meeting she’d been dreading. Not because she was unsure how she wanted it to go. More because she hadn’t gathered the courage to actually tell Cooper she loved him, yet. And with all the emotions swirling around inside her from almost making love, she wasn’t convinced those three words wouldn’t somehow slip out.

Here.

In front of everyone.

Nova glanced back at Cooper. Is that why he seemed off? What he’d started to say in his truck but hadn’t finished because the timing wasn’t right. That she might think he was insincere? Or maybe attempting to sway whatever decision she suspected was coming her way?

That he loved her, too?

And just like that, everything settled. No fear. No doubts. Just an image of how she wanted the rest of her life to play out. The only uncertainty was whether the DEA would be part of it.

She nodded at Waylen, and he hit a few buttons. The monitor sprang to life, Shaughnessy’s image ghosting into view a second later. He didn’t look as if he was at the office, a photo of his family hanging on the wall behind him.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on an old wooden desk as he nodded at her. “Special Agent Martin.”

“Director Shaughnessy. This is…” She paused, chuckling as she shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure what this is considering the time.”

Shaughnessy simply stared at her. “I’d say past when we should have had a chat. But I was under the impression you needed some time to heal.”

“Getting shot does tend to leave a mark.”

“I’m aware.”

And the man was. He’d been a Green Beret for several years before joining the DEA and working his way through the ranks. The kind of history she hoped meant he couldn’t be bought.

“Then, you won’t take it personally when I suggest we cut through the crap and get to all the awkward and uncomfortable topics of conversation. My recent status change most likely at the center of that.”

Shaughnessy sat there, eyes narrowed, hands still clasped together before he laughed and eased back in his chair. “Tate always claimed one of your best and worst attributes was your ability to cut through all the bureaucratic red tape and get straight to the heart of the issue. He wasn’t wrong.”

“With all due respect, sir, it seems pointless to dance around the subject.”

“I believe it’s called small talk, Agent Martin.”

“I’m sure Tate told you I’m not great at that, either. I believe Cartwright liked to phrase it as me not playing nice in the sandbox.”

Shaughnessy grinned. “Nicely done. You brought up his name without actually forcing my hand. Which is probably the reason you’re there and ex-Assistant Director Cartwright is handcuffed to a gurney in the hospital until we decide what the hell we’re going to do with him.”

“I doubt you’d like to entertain my thoughts on the matter.”

“Your team had a chance to remove him from the board. You chose not to, just like you chose to leave Detective Simmons still breathing. Seems to be a recurring theme with you, Martin. Choosing the high road.”

Nova braced her ass against the desk behind her, the stress of the past several weeks weighing on her. “I’d like to think that’s one line I haven’t crossed, yet.”

“Which would be far more comforting if you hadn’t crossed damn near every other one.” He picked up a piece of paper.“Failure to adhere to a federal warrant. Destruction of federal property. Vigilantism. You’ve been busy.”

Nova glanced at Cooper, rolling her eyes when it was obvious he and his team were trying not to smile. What she assumed was their way of easing the tension. “Extreme circumstances…”

“Require extreme measures. I understand the concept but damn, Nova…” He relaxed, again. “Of course, the fact you exposed dirty agents and put a significant dent in what’s shaping up to be one hell of a drug ring makes it difficult to know what to do with you, as well. Thoughts?”

“I’m assuming a promotion is probablynoton the table?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he smiled. “Exactly what I’d expected you to say. And exactly what I plan to do. So… name it.”

Nova froze. Had she suffered a stroke from a blood clot on her lung? Because she could have sworn the director had just agreed to the promotion. “Excuse me?”

“I said name it.”

“Name what, exactly?”

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